Despairingly Emotional
by Tears Falling Freely
Summary: Unconnected Lavicentric oneshots.
1. Coffins

Disclaimer: I do NOT own D. Gray-Man at all or it characters.

Warnings: Mentions of death, coffins. Lavi-centric.

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Coffins

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History was full of coffins.

There was more coffins then human achievements.

He lived, breathed, and slept history, but if there was one thing he hated about history, it was the coffins, inevitable or not. If he could, he'd erase it, the history of coffins, but to do so could be considered blasphemy, at least to his kind. He could very well do it, but he wouldn't, though he wanted to. As a Bookman, he had taken a vow, silently or not, to write down and observe history. It was his greatest privelge, his greatest curse, to be an observer, not seen nor heard.

He loved it as he hated it. It was his inevitable present, future, and even past. It was the only thing he owned, not even his coffin would be his. His gravestone wouldn't be his, it would be Bookmans, forever and ever. It was his greatest nightmare as well as his sweetest dream. It was a love hate relationship and it would remain that way.

Coffins were the result of history, its contained remains the cause, and he'd be there till his last breath, loving and hating history.


	2. Emotionless

A/N: Inspired Again. Also, from now one this will be full of oneshots surrounding Lavi. I would have done it seperatly since this and Coffins is not related, but One: All this oneshots are about Lavi and two: Whenever I read D. Gray-man now, I keep of thinking of more ideas for Lavicentric one shots

Disclaimer: I do NOT own D. Gray-Man or its characters.

Warnings: Angst.

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Emotionless

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The scratching of pen on paper unnerved him sometimes.

It was a constant reminder of his lineage, his lot in life, adopted or not. He felt lonely whenever he remembered that, but was also consequently reminded that he had no feelings, his emotions nonexistent, so being lonely was entirely impossible. So he kept it to himself, repeating numerous times that those feelings weren't there, that they were an illusion. It worked sometimes, though he couldn't and wouldn't admit that.

Bookman was what he was known as, though it wasn't like many people knew that. As far as he knew, no even knew he existed, and that's how it should be. At this point he could barely remember his name, his alias from what now seemed an entirely different life, someone else's that he would never be able to comprehend. Pangs of emotions, echoes of the past where pointedly ignored, as he vaguely remembered the day he had died.

The scratching that filled the room started to slow, allowing its dictator to pause and survey the darkened, windowless room he currently occupied. He let his hand stop and skip a line on the paper, only to sign his name, his title, on the paper below:

Bookman.


	3. Ghost

A/N: What can I say, I was inspired again. Thanks to those who reviewed.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own D. Gray-Man or its characters.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of burning, death, dying, ghosts. Mini Spolier for Ch. 121.

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Ghost

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He was looking at a coffin, probably the only person who knew who was in it. The only person to truly know the corpse resting in the bed of death, red roses covering it, matching the bodies hair. The only person who knew that the adopted name was only covering a fake name that meant more to him then the other ever would.

The corpse in the casket was known as Bookman, but he had been Lavi. He had once been training to be in the shadows, and now he was, as a ghost. A transparent apparition that was seen by no one, except possibly Allens cursed eye. But they weren't looking his way, only the corpse's.

When he died, he had been defending his heart, the side of him that had become attached, the side of him that was forbidden. When he had died, his bodies skin had been melted due to the high temperature that had supposedly killed him. The science department of the Black Oder was amazing, creating a replica of him to place in the casket, as his real body had been burned to ashes and lost to the wind, as it should be, he wasn't supposed to exist after all, no evidence was supposed to suggest otherwise, that's why this grave would be unmarked, to be lost to the test of time.

Bookman, the old panda, had been furious with the Black Orders decision to go through with a funeral that should not be happening in the first place. Linalee was weeping at the caskets side, while Allen was standing next to her kneeling, shaking form. His head was hung, chin touching his chest, silently damning himself for his failure of saving Lavi, a man that didn't exist, an apparition that was held back by his love for the bonds he had formed with everyone in the Black Oder.

An hour after tearful and heartfelt goodbyes, the casket was lowered into the six foot hole that had been dug the previous night. It had been dug in a secret garden at floor level of the tower that was the Black Order's headquarters. It had been decided that the casket would be buried here because that way, it wouldn't be odd for dirt to cover the area rather the grass, which in turn, gave no hint to the coffin resting deep beneath the top soil.

Soon flowers would cover the area as part of the garden, so it wouldn't matter, and after today, only the people who usually took care of the garden would be here in this area. It was a strategy in trying to forget the young Bookman that no one was supposed to remember, that no one was supposed to form bonds with, that no one was supposed to love or care for, the young man no one was supposed to hug or kiss, or just be with. He didn't exist, and he wouldn't ever exist.

As everyone slowly left the unmarked grave, as finders methodically threw dirt into it, the apparition stayed near the wall, in the shadows. When Allen and Linalee left last, Allen glanced over to the shadowed part of the room and smiled at no one, and the apparition smiled back at no one, left to forever be tied to this place, to an unmarked grave that meant nothing to no one.


	4. Reborn Again

Disclaimer: I do NOT own D. Gray-Man or its characters.

Warnings: Angst, a bit of heartwarming aww moment.

A/N: Inspired by Chapter 122.

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Reborn Again

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He had grown arrogant. In his quest for the reason, for the answer to why, he had become to believe himself better then the rest of the human race. Being a bookman had been his escape, a way to separate himself from the rest of those disgusting quarreling beings that seemed to think themselves better then everyone else.

He had succeeded, to a certain extant some may say, to cut himself off of the rest of the world. In his own mind, he was some sort of god. He alone, from a long line of superior man, had the right to record history, to remind the generations of their forefathers mistakes. It stood to be an almost mockery of the race that self appointedly ruled the planet.

That was when disaster struck, he had developed bonds where there was supposed to be none. He had anchored himself to the world around him, becoming a fallen god, only to find he didn't regret it as much as he probably should, he should detest being tied to the human he had so vehemently denied before.

His smile became genuine, and before he knew it, he had developed a personality that was not faked, it was real for once. Of course, there was still a part of him that was disgusted with humans and himself for falling so far. And now he was here, sacrificing himself for those bonds, and he now found he didn't mind so much, the race he had once damned for being the destructive beings he had been so sure they were. He suddenly found that maybe he wasn't so different after all, and somehow, that hurt more then the dark voice whispering deep in his mind.

When the burning stopped and the smell of charred skin and smoldering air came to him, he only briefly stopped to wonder how it all started in the first place. As he tried out his voice and Linalee showed her worry in her own way, he pushed back the voice in his mind that was slow in fading, and couldn't help but feel that there was no other place he'd rather be.


	5. Dead End

A/N: I wrote this because of the recent D. Gray-man chapter and because I had an urge to write a one-shot. At first it was going to be an Emotional Axel/Sora/Roxas threesome (Emotionl, not sexual) but I couldn't figure out how to write it so I gave up and wrote this instead.

Warnings: Mild Spoiler(s) for recent D. Gray-man Chapter(s).

Disclaimer: I do NOT in any way shape or form own D. Gray-man or its character or its setting or anything of it.

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Dead End

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Lavi let his eyes slide shut, trying to block out the whispers that seemed to follow him as he weaved through the crowd.

He wasn't supposed to be seen or noticed, so how could this be happening?

Than again, he was one of the few survivors of the Ark Incident, as it was called nowadays.

As it turned out, when the ground crumbled and he fell, it dumped him out into the outside world. Imagine his surprise when he was dumped next to Miranda.

Ever since that day he had cut off ties with everyone, even Kanda and Krory, as they happened to be dumped into the outside world when the floors they were on collapsed and fell away.

Linalee, Cross, and Allen were reportedly dead.

Old Man Bookman had put him through the ringer after he returned; spending half a year in complete isolation had only been the beginning. He still had the bruises and scrapes from when he had first come back.

While Kanda had been very nearly grateful for his distance, Krory had very nearly killed him with a vice-like grip as he refused to let go of Lavi.

Thankfully, Lavi knew human nature. Soon, everyone would drift from him, eventually forgetting the incident as newer, fresher memories took their place, letting the older memories to eventually drift and fade.

Soon he would drift and fade in people's memories and that would be when he could silently and swiftly take his place as Bookman's successor.

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The past year spent doing extensive training with Bookman had changed Lavi. It had been the training he had gone through previously, but crammed within the space of a year with a shaper edge underlying it.

The thought brought an emotionless smirk to his lips, the light that had previously been in his eyes was gone, replaced by a careful blankness. He was ignoring the pressure inside his body and putting a stopper on the bottle of his emotions.

People now shied away from him, to them he was ten times worse than Kanda.

Soon it wouldn't matter; he'd be in complete isolation upon taking his place as Bookman, discarding his old identity as one would carelessly throw their laundry in the hamper.

Ignoring the screaming was easier than it had been before and it brought a cold thrill through him.


	6. Did It Matter?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Dhampir72 who wanted another one. Sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind but it was the only one in mine. It's not as good as the others but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Thank you to everyone who reviews, it really is appreciated, alot.

Warnings: Weirdness, in my opinion. Breif mention of Straightness too.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own D. Grayman or it's characters.

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Did It Matter?

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For all his intelligence, Lavi had never foreseen any of this.

When the Noah wars ended, Bookman had kicked him out of the apprenticeship to become Bookman.

Why?

He had become too emotionally attached during the course of the war.

Bookman had seen it as a liability with good reason.

As far as Lavi's knowledge went, as admittedly small as that was, Bookman had already acquired a new apprentice not even a day after dismissing Lavi.

So here Lavi was now twenty years later, lonely but not alone.

While a great deal of people had died, the ones important to him had survived, like Allen and Kanda.

He had a wife now and ten year old twins, a boy and a girl.

Allen and Kanda, the godfathers amazingly enough, at least in the latters case, came over daily. Linalee and her brother came over once a week so it was relatively peaceful around the house.

He couldn't help but long for what being a Bookman would have provided him with.

As it was, he was a historian at a local University.

He wasn't happy about it, he had been training to be a Bookman after all, but he should have predicted it. After all, whenever he showed an ity bitty speck of compassion or emotion, the old racoon used to kick him in the head. He got it even worse when he showed he cared.

Whenever he seemed to get to attached, the old man used to scold him and remind him he didn't have a heart or a need for one. It clouded their judgement, their writing. If they didn't survive, history wouldn't be recorded and that was the cruelest crime of all.

So maybe Lavi had no right to be angry about any of it and he knew that intelluctually, that Bookman had done the wise thing, but it still pissed him off to no end. It only proved Bookman right though, that Lavi wasn't suited to the job anymore.

That was neither here nor there really, so it didn't matter anyway. What's done is done. It would be better to move on and not think of it any longer.

At least, that's what Lavi always told himself everytime he started a new day, and really, whose to say that was the end of it?


	7. Suspended Moments

A/N: This chapter is dedicated, again, to Dhampir72 who wanted another one. Sorry if it's not exactly up to par but after the message I pulled myself together long enough to spit out this. I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this but I hope it's at least okay. I really have no clue about this one.

Thank you to everyone who reviews, it really is appreciated, a lot.

Warnings: Weirdness, in my opinion. Run one sentences one purpose. As it skeeves me this mentions stitches.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own D. Grayman or it's characters.

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Suspended Moments

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**Exhale:**

Lavi yanked the bandage tighter, stitches pulled at the skin as he tugged, and the cloth very nearly gave way under the pressure, the same pressure that was crushing the heart that didn't exist inside his chest.  
**  
Inhale:**

The smoke curled to the sky, causing him to cough even as he shielded his nose and mouth with an arm.  
**  
Reverse:**

He almost wanted to tear the eye patch off, show them that he wasn't anything special, that they should leave him before he became attached, that while he may not be worthless, he sure as hell wasn't invaluable.

**Counteract:**

Maybe he shouldn't be doing this, maybe it was a mistake, that maybe, even while he was doing this, he was committing a crime that was inexcusable, something he wouldn't be able to reconcile, and while maybe that was true, burrowing into _there_ wouldn't be his end.  
**  
Contract:**

They weren't ready to face this, he wasn't ready to confront _that_, it would be his greatest miscalculation and their downfall.  
**  
Disassociate:**

Forty-ninth, it meant nothing, he meant nothing, he was nobody, and they didn't mean anything.

**Dissuade:**

Easy, difficult, soft, hard, it didn't matter, he didn't matter, Raccoon eyes repeating over and over 'till it was implanted into his brain, the deepest memory cavities that let nothing go.

**Marionette:**

Sometimes he wondered who the puppet master was and who was the puppet.


End file.
